


Everybody cares, but nobody knows

by majmu



Series: Aristocracy AU [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aristocracy, Dancing, First Meetings, Fluff, I'm lost, M/M, Secret Relationship, aristocracy au, is there a tag for that rich person/poor person dynamic, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21847708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majmu/pseuds/majmu
Summary: He knew what to say to a woman to make her feel special, but it always left such an awful aftertaste on his tongue that he'd been avoiding mingling with that type. The often dry conversations with distracted men felt a lot more rewarding, especially if André could take two glasses from a servant's plate and reach to give the other one to a person, who couldn't reach it himself. Most often their hands wouldn't even brush, and they both had gloves on, but it didn't matter. The thrill of that brief moment was enough to make André content for the rest of the night.At least, that's what he told himself.
Relationships: André (majmu)/Asher (Namarikonda)
Series: Aristocracy AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574023
Kudos: 4





	Everybody cares, but nobody knows

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2017, but need to put it here because I wrote some smut for it.
> 
> [André](https://refsheet.net/majmu/Andre)  
[Asher](https://refsheet.net/Namarikonda/asher)

_ You should look around, see if there's a good girl that the prince isn't interested in. At your age your father had two children. _

André looked at the ball crowd with lazy eyes, his stare dancing around beautiful women and handsome men. Most of them he knew. Someone's cousin, someone's sister's son. An uncle, a half-brother. Blue blood was blue blood, no matter how translucent the actual color was. He was going to marry a blue girl and have blue children, and they would marry blue and he'd be a blue old man one day. Blue like his eyes. Not very dark, but dark enough to be immediately noticeable. He would talk blue, laugh blue, and at the end of the day, feel blue.

He'd seen it all and he knew the type of people he was popular with. He knew what to say to a woman to make her feel special, but it always left such an awful aftertaste on his tongue that he'd been avoiding mingling with that type. The often dry conversations with distracted men felt a lot more rewarding, especially if André could take two glasses from a servant's plate and reach to give the other one to a person, who couldn't reach it himself. Most often their hands wouldn't even brush, and they both had gloves on, but it didn't matter. The thrill of that brief moment was enough to make André content for the rest of the night. At least, that's what he told himself.

He'd been nursing a civilized amount of wine in his glass for a while, careful to keep his hands to the bottom so he wouldn't warm it up. This time there were more people than normally, thanks to the prince looking for a wife. She had been most likely already chosen, but it didn't hurt to keep people's hopes up for a while longer. 

André dragged his eyes over the crowd once more, and this time saw a glimpse of someone he'd not seen before. Perking up a little, he straightened his posture and squinted his eyes at this one person who looked very out of place. Sure, he had to clothes and neat hair and all the normal stuff, but he was clearly nervous and antisocially keeping away from the crowd. No one else seemed to pay attention to him, and briefly André considered doing it too. But he was bored, and this person with a restless gaze seemed like he'd actually appreciate the company somewhat. Also, if he kept walking around alone like that, he'd probably gather unwanted side eyeing from André's peers.

Hard bottomed shoes clicking against the stone floor, André smoothly made his way across the room. A few quiet "excuse me"s got him outside of the worst of the crowd, and coincidentally his eyes met with the person's he was looking for. The other man, whoever he was, looked quickly away and stood very still, back against the wall. André let a smooth smile on his face and walked up to the other man.

"Good evening", he said calmly. 

The brunet he was talking to almost jumped, before he whipped his head around to look at André with bewildered eyes. 

"G-good evening to you too..." he stuttered, eyes restlessly darting around the room. After a moment's silence, he fidgeted in a panicked way and started to talk again.

"A-ah, it's a beautiful p- ball, tonight."

"It is."

Interested to see what would happen, André didn't say anything after that. Only when it seemed that the other man would combust into flames from stress, did the shorter of the two chuckle and offer his hand.

"My name is André."

The restless brunet seemed to calm down slightly at that, and gently took a hold of André's hand.

"Asher", he said, even offering a proper eye contact while shaking hands. André's smile melted slowly into a more genuine one.

"Don't get startled now, but... you're not from around here, are you?" André guessed, but without any kind of malice. Asher did the small jumping thing again, but seemed to find comfort in the way André was looking at him.

"Y-yeah... my step-sister needed someone to take her. I've... never been to a ball before", he admitted quietly, hand going up to comb through his hair, but stopping when the hard hair gel reminded him of how his hair was slicked back. He dropped his hand awkwardly back down, and André's eyes followed the movement with a familiar ache in his chest. 

Asher's hands weren't of the blue blooded kind. They were big and had a skin that had felt callused when they shook hands. Worker's hands. 

"You're kind to take her, even though her chances with the prince are probably nonexistent."

Asher huffed at that, but it was closer to a laugh than anything akin to offended.

"I didn't have much of a choice, she's a very stubborn person."

André smiled and stepped closer, and Asher didn't seem to mind it so he felt comfortable enough to lean on the wall next to the other man.

"I'm not much of a ball person either, to be honest. At some point it's less about dancing and having fun, and more about finding the suitable partner to have children with", André admitted, taking a small sip of wine to shut himself up. Asher made an interested sound, before giving André a sympathetic look. 

"The marriages around here seem to be... pretty cold."

"They are, unless the people happen to fall in love later", André hummed, sloshing his drink around slowly. Then he turned to look at Asher with a contemplative look, only to meet a pair of brown eyes curiously looking down at him. They stared at each other a moment, before André moved his wine glass in a careful motion towards Asher.

"Would you like a taste?" he asked quietly. 

Instead of giving a blank look and a slightly worrying scrunching up of a nose, Asher took the glass from André into his hand and tasted a sip. André stared at him with his eyes wide, keeping the calm facade when he took the glass back. Asher dampened his lips lightly with his tongue.

"It's different than what I'm used to having."

"It's old. That's what makes it better", André replied automatically. His eyes were on the rim of the glass on his hand.

After a few moments, he looked up and gave Asher an intense stare.

"Dance with me", he said.

Asher spluttered and laughed awkwardly.

"I'm not joking. Come on", André insisted, putting the glass down on the windowsill and grabbing Asher's hand carefully. Asher pulled back, and this time his other hand reached into his hair, and didn't stop in time to not mess up the style. A few strands escaped, but it didn't look too bad. 

"I- I don't think that's proper-" Asher said, starting to look restless again. André felt a stinging in his chest, and he reluctantly let go of the other man's hand. 

"I mean- I can't even dance..." Asher continued, his eyes glued on André's hands as they were pulled away. It took a few moments for André to understand what that meant in context, and then he looked at the other man, intrigued again.

"I could teach you", he proposed. Asher looked uncomfortably at the people dancing in the middle of the crowd, and turned to give André a telltale look. _ Please, no. Not here, at least. _

The possibility of the situation was too much for André to handle, and he turned to look at one of the off-limits doors he knew better than most. They weren't off-limits, not really. It was just common courtesy to not leave the ball area unless something urgent happened.

Well, this was urgent enough for André.

"Come with me", André said quietly and beckoned Asher to follow him. Surprisingly, he didn't hesitate for long, and followed André with nervous anticipation in his steps. 

André opened the door and closed it after them, before starting to walk down a long hall. Summer guest rooms were here, and they weren't in use in the wintertime. Too cold. No one was there.

André walked up to one door and tried the knob. Locked. He took a solid hold of the door and pushed it towards the hinges, and with a quiet click the door opened. It was sort of old. He turned to look at Asher with a smile, and was met with a confused pair of eyes.

"I've spent a few summer weeks here many times. I know a few tricks", André explained, and then pushed the door properly open. The air inside was cold, but it also made sure that it didn't feel stuffy. 

"W-wow... is there... no one here?" Asher asked, stepping inside. André smiled and unlocked the door from inside, before he pushed it closed again.

"Only during summer. It's cold now, as you can probably feel", André explained and walked up to Asher. The room wasn't too big, but there was plenty of walking room because the furniture was piled on the sides and covered in blankets to avoid dusting. The king sized bed looked more like a table, because the actual mattress wasn't in place under the coverings. 

The music from the ballroom was just a quiet humming in the background, barely noticeable. André reflected on how he'd managed to get himself into a situation like this, before he gently took Asher's hand and set it... wait. They couldn't both dance the male part. Without losing as much as a beat, André set the other man's hand on his waist and settled his own on Asher's shoulder.

"Just hold it there. Then we hold hands on this side, straight. No, not that straight, just far enough that your elbow isn't close to your body. Hold my hand up. It rests on your palm."

"D-do I just hold it up the whole time?"

"Yes, it's not that hard, I promise."

"Wasn't worried about that really, but thank you."

André laughed at that, and took a moment to pay attention to the man he was holding- or who was holding him. His arms would have no trouble holding up André's hand's feeble weight, that was a fact. And he was warm. His hand was warm but not sweaty, probably partially because of the calluses. It was a hard hand, but holding it felt natural and better than any of those long nailed and thin fingered ladies' had felt.

He would've been content with just standing there, to be honest, but Asher looked down at their feet, confused.

"I've seen people waltz before, but I never understand how they move their feet so that they don't step onto each other", he commented. André smiled and pushed Asher's feet with his own.

"Move them a bit. Keep them like this." André set his feet right for the beginning of the dance. "You start with this foot, and step towards me with just it. I'm going to step back at the same time with the opposite foot. Then you follow with the other foot, and I'll do the same as before with my other one." The steps were awkward and a bit too fast, making their shoes clack together, and André couldn't help but giggle at it. He bit his lower lip to not make more weird noises like that.

"Almost, just do it a lot slower. Give me time to react."

"Sorry."

This time it went smoother, though Asher was a tad bit too careful. André wasn't going to point it out though.

"Good, that's the beginning. Then we'll need to do small steps without moving properly, and continue to another direction or just move to one direction with us spinning slowly."

"Uh- what?"

André smiled and took a better hold of Asher. He shuffled hit feet a bit to show how the steps went.

"Like this. There are three steps you'll need to remember. First the one we just did, and then two small ones as fast as the first one as a whole. The second part of the first thing doesn't really count as steps, it's just following."

"I never knew it was this hard to waltz", Asher admitted, looking slightly intimidated.

"It's not as hard when you do it right a couple of times. Come one, dance with me", André encouraged and pulled Asher to follow his steps. 

It was far from smooth, there was a lot of bumping and misstepping and quiet _ "not like that!" _ s colored with laughter. André was whispering _ "one-two-three, one-two-three" _ to help them keep the rhythm. 

It had been a while since dancing had made him sweaty. He wasn't sweaty now either, not really, but he knew that he'd exerted himself more than at an average ball. Poor Asher seemed to be tired too, not as much physically as mentally, but still. 

After some time of intense footwork and quiet amused talking, they took a break. Now that neither of them had to keep staring at their feet, André noticed something light on Asher's face.

"Is that- do you have freckles?" he asked, honestly very confused by the notion. Only children had freckles, surely.

Asher brought his hand over his face, looking a bit bashful and covering the marks.

"Ah... yeah. My sister covered them up with something of hers, but it's probably starting to come off. She said they were 'too peasant' to be visible at the ball, or something."

_ 'They are' _, André thought, but didn't say it out loud. Instead he touched Asher's hand on his face and moved it gently to the side. Even though he'd been going for looking at the freckles again, somehow their fingers tangled together and eyes met before he could look at anything else. Asher's eyes weren't really brown all the way. They had a reddish hue on the edges on the brown, and in the middle there were rings of golden yellow. 

A long eye contact like this wasn't part of the etiquette. He should look away and smile calmly.

But their stare continued, and only when their noses touched did André startle away from the closeness. He took a deep breath and a step back, but didn't let go of Asher's hand. The other man's other hand was still on his waist.

"I- hm", he started, but didn't finish because he didn't know what he'd been about to say. Asher was calmer than he'd been earlier, and just held André with a quiet resolve, but without restricting him. 

André felt like he'd boarded a train, but without actually thinking about where he'd disembark. 

"You- you talked about... finding a proper partner to have children with. Earlier", Asher started quietly. André felt how his chest started to feel too small for his lungs. "Why did... why did you take me here?"

_ Why did he? _

"I've... I don't... I didn't think you'd actually come." _ That came out wrong _.

"I mean, I don't want a blue blooded wife and blue blooded children- I, uh. I don't like women. Maybe?" _ That's almost worse. _

Before he could continue to explain himself, Asher moved his hand away from André's waist and took his free hand to hold instead. He looked at André, a slightly sad look in his eyes.

"I'm not angry. You don't like women?" 

"I don't like women", André repeated quietly.

"How... old are you?"

André looked at Asher tiredly at that.

"25."

"_ How _ have you managed to avoid getting married, exactly? Even I'm being pressured and I'm 20."

That took a different turn than André expected. He looked at Asher and squinted his eyes.

"I'm stubborn and a lazy son, but my mother loves me so she's just... waiting for the right one, I guess. Or, well, right one for me", André said, smiling slightly. Asher snorted and shook his head like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Lucky."

"Depends on who you're asking, really. You're the first man who has followed me absolutely _ anywhere _. That does things to my ego, you know."

"I think all the other men knew how to dance already, for a start."

It could've gone bad, but for some reason the air only seemed lighter after that. 

"I know why I asked you to come with me, but why did you follow me then?" André asked, squeezing Asher's hands lightly. Asher huffed and looked to the side, and for the same reason as to why his freckles were visible, his blush was starting to be visible too.

"I, uh, wanted to learn how to dance?"

André looked at him with a _ 'you can't be serious' _ expression on his face. Asher let out a nervous laugh.

"I'm not actually sure why... I just wanted to. I don't regret it."

André turned his face down to hide his goofy smile, before looked back up while biting his lower lip.

"Can I have this dance?" he said, the only deadpan thing in him being his voice. Asher smiled and moved closer, this time with more confidence than before. Their hands moved to the starting pose of waltzing, and this time Asher stepped on André's feet only twice.

-

The ball was starting to come to its end when they left the room, their breaths lingering with each other's, but never coming close enough for their mouths to touch. They didn't hold hands outside of the room either. Asher's hair was a mess from constantly forgetting not to touch it, and André had trouble controlling his mouth, which was constantly tugging into a smile. 

No one seemed to notice when they slipped back into the ballroom, but after a few minutes of joking near the edge, an annoyed looking woman approached them. They didn't really share a resemblance, but André was sure this was Asher's sister.

"Where did you _ go _!? What's the point of you bringing me here, if you're not actually present when I need you?" she asked, clearly being the master of yelling while whispering. André looked at Asher apologetically, and brushed his arm briefly, before he walked away. Asher shrunk several centimeters when his sister arrived, but gathered enough spine to smile after André when he left. This seemed to catch his sister's attention.

"Who was that?" she asked, a lot calmer than before. Asher didn't look away from where André walked into the crowd, like it was his childhood forest in the backyard.

"André."

"Last name?"

"Don't know."

"Mother? Father? Relationship with the prince? Come on Asher, you should've asked at least something from him, if you two spent that much man time together."

"He spends some weeks during summers in here."

"That literally tells me nothing."

"Sorry, but I didn't spend time with him for _ you _."


End file.
